What if all you trusted was to crumble about you?
When a new pony arrives at Valley Riding School, volunteer Abby has no idea of the integral role that he has to play in the unfolding of her life. She goes from riding once per week to preparing for...
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Three of us wait for the horsebox.
Three of us stand in nervous anticipation- or maybe it isn't nervous. Maybe we are just excited or suspended still in disbelief.
Three of us await horses that have long been ours, even though they have never belonged to us Not really.
"Nervous?" I ask, playfully jabbing Hana with my elbow.
She sits on the fence beside me, Matt on the other side, his arm on my shoulders. He shelters me from the harsh wind that rushes through the hills. I wear his hoodie, and the smell feels almost as much like home as this place has begun to.
I know Hana feels it too, even though she has known it for less time than I have. It is in the way that she awaits the arrival of Sara, nervous but not on edge. She is comfortable here too, one hand resting on the fence, the other in her pocket.
"Very," she finally replies, but she doesn't sound nervous. Calm, more like.
We had prepared the stables a few minutes previously, with fresh hay and straw ready for the ponies. Together, we had done them, chattering away with grins on our faces and warmth in our hearts. Hana had shaken straw into my boots and I had threatened her playfully with a pitchfork. Matt had laughed at our antics: a cosy sound, and a comforting one.
Somehow the cold seems to dissipate when he laughs. It says a lot that Matt could have gone through so much yet still have a soul warmer than the ice in his eyes.
I hadn't thought that at the time. Had only laughed with him. Now though, under the yellow sun, we are silent, and I have time to think.
As the rattling of the box sounds on the road, we stand as one. Nerves flutter in my heart- I hope that the ponies have travelled well.
I run to open the gate for Sara, watching as the heavy vehicle emerges from the trees. A shrill whinny sounds from within. I wonder if it belongs to Autumn or Quinn. Nevertheless, it is answered by some horse out in a field, taking a break from the grass for a greeting.
The box pulls to a halt as it enters the courtyard. Sara leaps out and Mr. Smith and Raj emerge from the office, steaming mugs clasped in their hands. They watch from a distance as Matt and Sara nimbly deal with the side ramp, placing it gently to the yard.
Mr. Smith's wise eyes are jolly, and Raj smiles sagely as he leans against the door. But my eyes are fixed upon the open ramp.
A dark nose points out- Quinn- and Hana rushes to untie him. Even though her back is turned, her grin is infectious, and I allow myself to be swept briefly into memory as the bay roan gelding steps out and whinnies.
All those Saturdays spent grooming him and slipping him treats between lessons, those hacks through the woods and gallops in the park. It has never occurred to me that Quinn means as much to Hana, as much to so many people, as Autumn means to me.
He looks majestic in his new setting, head raised and nostrils flared, but his shaggy coat betrays him for his time spent in the riding school. Now he will have only one rider- one who will love and spoil him. Ride him well.
Quinn will be a pony in a world for horses. Hana is happy though, and I am glad that at least Quinn could be saved from the wreckage that was Valley Riding School. I hope that the other ponies have been so lucky.
Impatient kicking sounds from within the box and Matt rushes to release the second pony from his stall. I watch, the pony concealed from sight behind the boy who holds him, and I gaze at the flurry of autumn colours that rush and tumble out of the box. The crimson points and the jewel-like shine. He is a rustle of leaves on a bank of freshly turned earth. A pony of the harvest.
I rush to meet him, burying my head in his fire-like tresses. My hands stroke his neck, his forehead, rub the whorl that resides there. Autumn, the embodiment of, turns his head as if to ask what the fuss is all about and I am filled with a rush of content.
There is one more horse to find, but for now, Autumn is all that matters. The only thing in the world.
